


people think superpowers are hot, right?

by GalaxyOwl



Category: The Bright Sessions (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, canon compliant as of the end of s2, sort-of-mostly fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 08:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7927552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyOwl/pseuds/GalaxyOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And suddenly, Adam has a friend. It's that fast, and that simple, even while it's not. Because there’s a moment, not long after, when Caleb is talking the sunlight filtering through the window hits Caleb’s face in just the right way, and something in Adam wants this moment to never end. And he’s pretty sure “friend” doesn’t quite cover this particular range of emotions that he’s going through here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	people think superpowers are hot, right?

**Author's Note:**

> SSSH16 present for sadhipstercat! 
> 
> (Title is a line from canon. It doesn't have that much to do with the fic, it's just too good not to use.)

It starts like this. 

There’s this boy in Adam’s English class. He’s sort of weird, and sort of intimidating, and more than a little bit cute. But he probably wouldn't have payed him much attention if he hadn't spoken to Adam first.

His name, Adam learned, is Caleb.

There's a point, when Adam is packing up his bag after class, when Caleb approaches him. He mutters some stuff about Adam's presentation from last week, and then says, “Do you want to sit with me at lunch?”

“Uh, sure,” Adam says. 

And suddenly, he has a friend. It's that fast, and that simple, even while it's not. Because there’s a moment, not long after, when Caleb is talking the sunlight filtering through the window hits Caleb’s face in just the right way, and something in Adam wants this moment to never end. And he’s pretty sure “friend” doesn’t quite cover this particular range of emotions that he’s going through here.

It would be just like Adam to have a crush on the straight football player.

He argues with himself about it, sometimes; does he _know_ Caleb is straight? He doesn't really. He does know that Caleb's going to that dance with that girl—Kirsten? Kaitlyn?—and it’s not like people don't go as friends, it's not that that means there isn’t still a _chance_ Caleb could like him back, but…

But they sit together and they talk. At one point, Caleb asks Adam if he wants to go to his football game and he agrees, because it’s Caleb. And he actually enjoys himself, because it’s Caleb.

The next week, Caleb keeps talking about his upcoming away game with a tone of nervousness that Adam would never be able to miss. It's Friday when Adam finally stops him and says, “Hey, that reminds me, I, uh, made you something. For the bus ride.”

“Really?”

“Well, sort of. I mean, it’s dumb, but I made you a mixtape?" Is it still called a mixtape when it’s not on tape? He doesn't think Caleb would particularly care about that distinction.

“Oh,” Caleb says. “Thanks, that’s…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, and Adam is sort of worried that Caleb thinks it _is_ dumb.

He continues with his explanation anyways. Adam shoves the sheet of notebook paper with the list at Caleb and says, “I’ll send you the digital version tonight, okay?” 

“Thanks,” Caleb says, and he smiles, and Adam, who’d been very carefully telling himself this was a strictly platonic gift, doubts that fact all over again.

Sometimes he dares to imagine. He’ll be watching Caleb at lunch or at home or in a darkened movie theatre and think, _Maybe._ After all, what does he know? Maybe tonight will end with Caleb’s dramatic confession of his undying love, and it will be like every single straight movie romance he’s been forced to endure. Only better, because it’s Caleb.

(When the confession does eventually come, it’s not anything he ever expected.)

***

It ends like this. 

Caleb tries to tell him some weird shit about empathy. And Adam thinks of every time they’ve hung out, every time he’s thought stupid things around his friend, and he can feel a knot of anxiety twisting itself tighter inside of him. 

Except, of course, it doesn’t end. He’s in the middle of an unsuccessful attempt at studying when his phone buzzes. 

They talk. 

Everything changes. And nothing changes, at the same time. But he can feel Adam is brighter, happier, on the days when he can manage to be. They are together, as much as possible. They're a couple—probably, maybe? They don’t discuss it in exact terms, but Adam is pretty sure it’s _implied_ , past a certain point. Adam has never dated before, not really, and he’s pretty sure Caleb hasn’t either. (He asks him about Kaitlyn, at one point, and Caleb sort of laughs and brushes it away.)

They figure it out.

They go to that party with Caleb's team. Adam is nervous, and he knows Caleb can tell he's nervous. It's possible that will never not be weird. But Caleb has assured him everything will be fine, and he trusts him. 

And then he knows Caleb knows he's nervous, because he takes Adam's hand and squeezes if tight. He doesn't know if he planned it, but they wind up walking in like that. Hand in hand. They drop hands, not long after; it's inconvenient to be tethered to another person in this way, in such a crowd. 

Adam watches Caleb. He knows that large numbers of people can be stressful for him, and he does fully intend to be there for him if he needs it. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Caleb says. "Honestly, I don't need you to babysit me."

"That's what I'm here for, though."

"Shut up."

They're quiet a moment. The room is not. Adam has never especially been one for parties, but this isn't that bad, as things go. He and Caleb move towards the other side of the room, where there's more space; Caleb waves to a few people as they pass.

"Well, they're not staring at us," Adam says.

"I'm pretty sure they've seen us together before," Caleb says.

"That doesn't mean they've seen us _together_ , though." Adam's anxieties come back to him, in bits and pieces. Things have been fine—things are almost definitely going to be fine—but he still doesn't feel quite comfortable around these people.

"Everything's fine, okay?" Caleb says. "Can you just trust me on this one?"

"I trust _you_ ," Adam mutters, "just not—

"Seriously?"

Adam sighs. "Fine. I'm sorry."

"It's not that big a deal." It had certainly sounded like one not five seconds ago, but he doesn't think Caleb would appreciate him pointing that out. He's about to say something else—anything else, really—when they're interrupted by some guy Adam doesn't know but Caleb clearly does. 

"Hey, Caleb," he says. "This that friend you were talking about?"

Part of Adam thinks, _What has he told them about me?_

"Boyfriend, actually," he says aloud.

***

It ends like this. 

Caleb doesn’t trust him. Or at least, Caleb doesn't trust his parents, and that's enough. Adam didn't know anything about the AM, or his parents secrets, or whatever it was that Chloe thought she saw. He still doesn't, really. He just knows that Caleb has been stressed out lately, and he's been a little worse than stressed out, and that shouldn't matter but it does.

Except, of course, it doesn’t end. 

They avoid one another at school, the next few days. Days stretch into weeks. At one point, they meet eyes in the hallway. Adam wants to head over to him, talk to him, tell him he's sorry (even though he didn't _know_ , he still doesn't know, and anyways he's pretty sure this is about more than his parents and he doesn't know what to say about that). But before Adam can either work up the courage or talk himself out of it, Caleb breaks eye contact, and keeps moving. He doesn't go after him. What would he say? What could he possibly do? 

Two weeks later, Adam is sitting at lunch when Caleb slams his tray down next to him with a crash. "This is stupid."

"What is?" Adam says, without thinking. 

"This fucking—avoiding each other, like you don't know more about me than like, literally anyone else in my life. Like I don't—It's just, it's stupid, okay?"

"So are we all good?"

"I don't know," Caleb says.

"I guess that's okay." He doesn't know either.

They slip back into their old habits all too easily. It's not what it was—Adam isn't sure he could confidently call Caleb _boyfriend_ anymore—but it's something. They hang out. They do homework together and Adam comes to Caleb's games and things are, overall, alright.

But there's a gap in all of their conversations. Caleb doesn't talk about his therapy sessions. (Is he even still going?) Adam certainly doesn't talk about his. Caleb doesn't talk about his power—Adam can still tell, of course, when his own mood is agitating him, but they don't acknowledge it, don't talk about it, just pretend it's not there. Adam doesn't talk about his parents. They don't go on any more stakeouts.

"Do you want to come over this afternoon?" Adam asks, at one point. Not really thinking about it.

"I can't," Caleb says. "I'm... I have a thing."

"A thing."

"Y'know. The thing." It clicks, then. 

Caleb was never exactly a master of subtlety, but _honestly_.

Adam studies his face a moment, wishes he could read Caleb's emotions as easily as Caleb reads his. Adam doesn't know what sort of shit Caleb has gotten involved in. This realization in itself is jarring. For all he knows, Caleb could be part of some secret superhero team that runs around fighting Adam's parents at night. (How you'd use empathy to fight crime is beyond him, but he's sure Caleb, of all people, could find a way.) 

It isn't as if he _wants_ to get involved with any more of Caleb's atypical drama. It was a strange and stressful thing to be a part of that group even by proxy. But he does want to know about every part of Caleb's life.

If they're going to do this. If they're going to make this work.

"This is stupid," Adam says.

***

They meet in the hallway, halfway to English class. It isn't exactly intentional, but it isn't all that uncommon—they're both going to the same place, after all. Probability alone probably dictates that they're going to meet sometimes.

But they fall into step beside one another, which seems like more than just probability. Caleb says something to him, and Adam says something back, and they talk. About nothing, really, but it's the nice sort of nothing.

And—Caleb takes his hand. Adam doesn't know if he really meant to, or if it was just muscle memory, or if it really meant anything at all. But the presence of Caleb beside him is comforting, for now, and so Adam holds tight to his hand as they walk down the school hallway.

It isn't what it was. It probably never will be. But this is one of those moments, where he looks at Caleb and thinks—or maybe only hopes—that having him there with him could be enough.


End file.
